smash_logs | Dorm Log: School's in session

Dorm Log: School's in session

Who: All of Smash.
What: Dorm log! September edition.
Where: Student and Teacher dorms, and quite possibly beyond campus.
When: The span of September 15th - 30th.
Warnings: HAHAHAHAHA.

Ripped off the last one and all its friends: Basically, here's how this works. We all know our characters experience downtime after classes and their busy schedules, and this is a good venue for those kinds of miscellaneous dorm-shenanigans to take place. Not only does it give your characters the easy chance to meet new people in a laid-back environment, but it's a good mechanism for strengthening CR. It's easy!

Feel free to begin in any way you please! Plan with (a) fellow player(s) if you'd like! Or, set up a thread and wait for characters to bite! Just add a thread with the room number (and date/time, if it matters) and the characters that reside there (just for reference!). You do not have to use one character's thread as a dual-purpose for both characters if you do not want to. Doesn't have to be a dorm room, either, if you have something else in mind. It could be the common room or the student science lab or wherever. So how's that first week of school been treating you? How big's your pile of homework? Sure, you could be doing that. But why do that when you could decimate your friendships by playing a round of Giana Party 4? Host a girl's-only slumber party! Spy on a girl's-only slumber party! Dare someone to spend the night in the haunted dorm! Slip a (fake) love letter beneath that special someone's door! Etcetera, etcetera... I'm sure you can think of something to get your bad self up to.

Directory
Alter Ego | Aoi | Blaze | Boss | Brown | Byakuya | Byrne | Carter | Chell | Chihiro | Chili | Clear | Connor | Daisy | Eggman | Eirika | Falcon | Francine | Garry | Goombella | Gordon | Henry | Ib | Isabelle | Jock | Jolt | Jon | Knuckles | Mac | Mukuro | Nyx | Phoenix | R.O.B. | Red | Rhys | Rick | Samus | Shadow | Snake | Sonny Moe | Ulki | Voile | Zelda | Ziio

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Caim tends to like his privacy, but the case has proven more than once that such a luxury is often lost within the academy.

He spends a good majority of his time in his classroom, working on curriculum for his students now that the new year has begun. How he wants to change things from the previous year, the limit to which he wants to push his pupils - a great deal goes into what Caim is looking to achieve. But he's always open to a random visit or private tutelage. The man is still good with a blade, after all.

When he's not in class, he's more often than not in his room. He has a lot to think about, with a missing Pikmin replaced by his two yellow ones, but not filling the hole in his heart. Caim may seem a little more solemn than normal. Or perhaps one could say he appears more human.

The fencing classroom was one that Naoya had, on an indulgent whim, peeked into before. With all the rampant excitement dying down and school starting up again, however, the programmer had once again grown restless with curiosity for new avenues he could poke his nose into. Why not take the opportunity to check up on how a fellow faculty member was doing with his class preparations?

With the signature clack of his sandals giving away his presence from as far away as down the hall, Naoya wandered by and poked his head in to give Caim a warm, "Good morning. How have we been faring?"

He'd picked an opportune moment to show up. Caim was perfect content with his personal space and time. He'd taken it to practise his own technique. Part of understanding how to teach his pupils was understanding how he moved. But it was hard to explain instinct. A sword felt like an extension of his arm. It felt like it became a part of him. Like Caim was the blade.

As he extended his arm and his lines, he likened it dancing, because that's what it was like. Sword art was just as beautiful. Although in the back of his mind, he thought it far more interesting to watch the way his opponents scattered.

When Naoya addressed him, his posture straightened and he turned to the doorway. Then he lifted a hand and waved in the man, having not forgotten him from their last meeting. And coincidentally their first.

Taking that as a signal to enter, Naoya invited himself in and walked over to Caim. Ah, silence. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like last time, to speak and for the response to be utterly devoid of sound. It certainly made him feel like he had to speak more, as though to compensate for the lack of words and to prevent the air from going stale.

What was it that caused this defect, he wondered. Was it internally or externally induced?

"Already busy at work, I see." Naoya tilted his head to admire the blade in Caim's hand. "You have beautiful form. Devoid of hesitation, carving a path as though it were second nature." This observation made the programmer's persistent smile look quite pleased. "As it should be."

Caim had not considered, neither did he care much, what Naoya thought of his condition. 'Condition.' As if the very word implied it was a curable disease, something the prince had long since put from his mind. If he'd had a voice, what was the likelihood of him even using it? Would there even be a point? Did he even have anything to say?

No. Not particularly. No sense in voicing unending disappointment.

He put his fencing sword aside and paused by the whiteboard with dry erase marker in hand.

I am more than a little familiar with a blade. My instruction of it is not a foreign concept.

There he went again, having to put everything down to write out his words. Surely there was a more efficient way to dictate his thoughts. Naoya crossed his arms, ruminating over ideas in his head as he did so. Well, he couldn't help but let his thoughts wander - technology created solutions, and he considered himself a master of its possibilities.

"Far be it for me to doubt your abilities, hahaha... I very much believe you'd be a most efficient killer of men," chuckled Naoya - while his tone was jovial, his eyes spoke seriously. He meant what he said. "It just seems difficult to take up instruction of such a physical subject through the written word."

I very much believe you'd be a most efficient killer of men.

He was. How... observant of him? An educated guess? Caim had a hard time pinpointing which it was. And he wasn't going to. He wasn't so curious that he had to know. As far as he was concerned, Naoya was talking simply to fill the silence and that was fine.

My sister provides vocal instruction on my behalf.

It was probably the first and only time that he felt interested in being so upfront about the assistance that he had. Furiae was permitted to help him only because she was of his blood. He doubted he would have accepted it from anyone else. In fact, he was reasonably certain that he wouldn't.

"Well, that sounds inconvenient," he remarked playfully. As though satisfying some little curiosity of his, Naoya picked up the sword that had been put down and tested the weight of it in his grip. His arm certainly wasn't strong enough to wave one around with great proficiency anymore, but his form was still on point as he casually wielded it.

"For instance, she's not here right now, is she?"

Caim cocked an eyebrow. Inconvenient? Hardly.

He watched Naoya for longer than a few moments, wondering if the man had any talent for the sport at all. He looked like he had potential, which was better than not having any, but to be fair, the prince hadn't watched him enough to get a really good gauge on possibility. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Hardly. She only assists me for the class. I do not need her to translate anything further for me.

Well, it was inconvenient for Naoya and that's all that really mattered. Even if he did have words, the programmer could very much believe that Caim would be laconic in its use anyway. But a man of few words was still more interesting than a man of none.

"Well. She sounds like quite a thoughtful sibling, nonetheless." This 'Cain' must have made for an interesting brother himself. Casually, Naoya commented, "The two of you must be close, for her to know your mind so well."

She is thoughtful, yes. Her assistance is unnecessary, however she did offer it and we are close enough that I would not reject it.

Not to say Caim hadn't thought about turning her kindnesses aside, for he most certainly had. Just that at the end of the day, Furiae's protection, secured future, and happiness were among his priorities. He felt no need to explain that, however, and got the impression that Naoya would put it together sooner or later.

She is a student here. I would not be surprised if you had seen her in passing. We look enough like one another, but perhaps too easily plain and therefore not easily recognised as siblings.

"I've a good memory for faces," Naoya informed him. Just another facet of his curse, after all. He could recall a girl of that description on campus, but had no cause or care to interact with her.

He lowered the sword - form aside, his skinny arms didn't have the training or muscle to keep the length of metal held up for too long without tiring. What a shame. Well, it's not like he really needed a blade in order to fight anyway.

"A sibling is indeed a bond to be treasured. You're quite fortunate to both be here with her."

Caim nodded slowly, as if he was hesitant to agree with it. Not because it wasn't true, but rather because it was one of those things that he wasn't sure how confident he felt that Naoya would get that so easily. But was it really that convenient? No, perhaps not. He liked thinking he had a better way of hiding information about himself.

I am, yes. I can admit to that.

But it was also the entire academy that was fortunate to have her there with him as well, for if she hadn't been, especially with Ai being gone, Caim couldn't say everyone was safe. He couldn't say he had such a strong grasp over his sanity. He tried not to think about what things would be like without Furiae there.

Have you any siblings?

Naoya's smile took on an enigmatic tint as he glanced away to ponder the question. For most people it would be a pretty simple yes or no answer, but he seemed to be mulling on how much information he was willing to divulge.

"In a sense," he said after a pause. As though to occupy his eyes, the programmer tasked his gaze towards studying the hilt of the sword in his hands.

"When my parents died, I was taken in by my aunt and uncle. They bore a son of their own shortly after. I consider him a sibling nonetheless." Naoya's smile grew wider thinking of him, a dark sentimentalism in his eyes that oddly looked out of place. "In spirit, at least, he is truly my brother."

Edited 2013-10-01 01:35 (UTC)

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loverofinnocence - 2013-10-02 01:39 (UTC) - Expand

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caincarnate - 2013-10-03 06:00 (UTC) - Expand

Whatever Furiae felt about her brother's attempts in trying to find a man to take her hand in marriage, she was not so spiteful to ignore how forlorn he had become in the face of Ai's departure from the school to her garden. It made her concern, and in some attempt to help take his mind off of it she had tried to make herself more available to him.

Though he already had all of her attention, so there wasn't much of a difference. Not really. The starting of classes did mean that with her as his voice, Furiae had been attempting to keep her knowledge of fencing to the level necessary for the class. Suitable. The class itself had been such a bizarre and strange thing for her to partake in, never having lifted a blade before in her life (except maybe once or twice, but never to use), and yet it was now the class she put the most effort into. Hesitation in practices had been her weakness, but she had been getting better at it, at least she thought so. It helped when you had a good teacher- one that you wanted to impress.

(And time to get used to it all, too.)

She came to his room on no particular or unusual late evening. A familiar knock on his door, and then she stood to wait for his answer, whether maybe it came as a sound on the inside - to let her know it was fine for her to enter - or as him just opening the door. A simple bag hung from her wrist and she had in her hands two hot drinks. Tea, to hopefully keep him warm.

Too true it was that Caim's mind was on other things. When he hadn't been occupied with school curriculum, he'd given plenty of thought to plenty of ideals. Furiae's future. Perhaps not with Kiyotaka Ishimaru, though certainly a possibility - if she'd ever simply let the man tend to her. His own future, which he didn't particularly think he had much stake in. Any future of his couldn't be a very good one or interesting, for that matter. Ai's departure was one that repeatedly echoed, but it was on good terms, which was better than his had been when he'd taken leave.

Life had a funny way of just continuing, even when Caim sometimes wanted to revisit the past. And he was still bound by it, for one reason or another.

So when Furiae had made her visit, finding her at his door was something of a pleasant surprise, and a truly perplexing one. He'd known well enough she'd eventually chide him, perhaps tell him to stop being so protective, maybe to scold him for trying to play the part of a parent since it wasn't his right. He'd long since braced himself for that, but it had yet to come. It was only a matter of time, though.

His eyebrows lifted and he opened his door fully for her, sweeping out an arm to beckon her a welcome.

Fencing class was something Chell both loved and dreaded. She wanted to learn to fence, to defend herself with something other than a gun that only worked with moon rock powder. So she paid attention and showed up to class, gave her best efforts despite never speaking.

But the part she didn't like was the teacher. She still had no idea what to think about that episode with the Cupid Bots - but part of her couldn't help resenting Caim for that. Even if it wasn't his fault, she didn't want to remember it, how she made a fool of herself... And yet she couldn't deny that an intrigue had lingered from that day on. It wasn't romantic how she felt about him, but she could see a depth that interested her. No words ever came forth, and he was patient with her...

So maybe that's why she found herself knocking at his door, fencing blade in hand. Another round of practice couldn't hurt.

Oddly enough for how much Caim didn't have a lot of tolerance for other people, he didn't mind Chell's companionship. True that every time he looked at her he saw the day that he'd professed some kind of unspoken love. True that there was also the instance of the mistletoe. There were certainly things he never forgot, but they weren't things he held against her either. He knew very well of the things the academy could conjure and coerce. Those days...

Well. One was some unfortunate happenstance for them both and the other was a fit of compassion.

When he found her at his door, someplace he never actually expected to see her at, there was a clear cut pause, as if he didn't know how to interpret that. There had never been another woman in his room other than Furiae. And Ai, he supposed. And Mac had once come in. N, too. But it wasn't exactly past his senses not to slightly consider what long since gone parents would say about that kind of behaviour.

After a moment's hesitance, he opened his door fully, swept out an arm, and invited her in, thinking briefly that perhaps he should have hidden the variety of colorful drawings and murals Ai had left when he was caring for her, or he could have stashed away any of the gifts from Furiae. It certainly didn't look the room of a mass murderer or stoic fencing instructor.

Immediately there was a slight nervousness that Chell felt when Caim had opened the door. She didn't exactly show it - instead she simply looked up at him inquisitively as she held the blade. Even so, there was something about his stoicism that had set her on edge. Maybe it was the fact that he was an instructor of swordsmanship or fencing and never spoke. And of course to see that in contrast to the two incidents in which the school had tried to force them together was somewhat unnerving. But Chell would gladly forget those two incidents and just focus on the now.

It was a good thing, actually, that Caim hadn't hidden away the murals, because they made Chell feel much more at ease. They were a sort of familiarity to her, a friendly face to help her out in times past... Or in times of the future. This time the murals were much more colorful, much more innocent and childlike, and she actually took her time to look them over.

Her eyes lit up a bit too, and her blade was dropped down to her side unconsciously. She didn't have to be so guarded here, then. Gently, she reached a hand up to touch the dried paint of one of the old murals... She hadn't forgotten why she had come, of course. But she was curious.

It took a few moments of consideration from him, but he finally closed the door after her. Not because he had any plans of turning her away, but he thought it still strange to have a woman in his room. Not just any woman either. She was a student, though she hardly looked too much younger than him. (How old was he, again? He couldn't even remember.) Definitely older than Furiae, however, and he could just imagine what would arise if she ever caught wind of Chell visiting him.

Or of that fated Valentine's Day extravaganza of horror.

His eyes followed hers onto his walls, and he was instantly reminded of the ache he'd been trying to ignore. Ai was... gone now, something he didn't want to believe. It was something he hadn't discussed with anyone and didn't exactly have the plans to either. It'd do no good to expose that she had such an effect on him. But he supposed in hindsight, he'd have felt better if he believed he could speak on it.

The one time he really wanted a voice, he supposed.

He opted in writing for his equally silent companion. These were done by another student. A young girl with violet hair. She was staying with me briefly. And they were some of the best days he'd had. Like when they went and made flower crowns together or napped under the trees during the summer.

Chell looked to the beautiful handwriting that Caim had given her, nodding at the explanation. Of course, Chell still had no idea of the whole fiasco that had happened with Caim long ago, about how Ai had been forbidden to see him. As far as Chell could tell, this showed simply a soft side to her fencing instructor. A young girl who lived with him and painted beautiful colored murals on his wall... She thought of her roommate, Mary, briefly - she was an artist, right? Too bad she seemed so out of sorts lately...

Maybe Mary should have painted a mural in their room. Maybe it would brighten the place up, though Chell wondered if Mary would end up painting something creepy and grotesque, like her strange dolls... Bad idea, then.

Chell didn't communicate too often in writing, but she did keep a pad with her in case she needed it. It was easier than speaking, at least. Easier than opening her mouth and using that voice that had probably long since faded from years of inactivity. She wrote briefly a comment about the artwork, even though her expression had probably said enough. Nonetheless, she scrawled out writing on a pad: Very pretty.

And she gave a small smile when she handed Caim the scratch pad, before writing her next request down. Can I have an extra fencing lesson?

He took what he offered her and found himself looking over one of Ai's murals again. He certainly couldn't disagree. Whatever world Ai had come from was vastly different from his and true, he was curious about it. Any world that wasn't Midgard was one he was curious by, but he couldn't deny that he'd had his fill of world jumping when he'd hunted down Furiae only to return empty handed and to be laughed in the face by gods and goddesses who'd brought her back of their own accord. No. He could settle for not seeing another world other than the one he was in presently.

Unless someone wanted to go fix Midgard and its never-ending cycle of Seeds of Resurrection and mankind's 'salvation.'

Chell's other request caught his attention and he realised he should have known it sooner because he'd seen her foil. And to be fair, he was under the impression she might just attempt killing him, which in a way he welcomed, because it'd be far more interesting than anything else going on. And in other ways, he wasn't really interested in dying just yet. And she'd have to actually succeed, which he had a feeling would be no easy feat.

His eyebrows lifted and he gave a slow nod. Were you looking to practise a technique in particular?

The two obviously came from very different worlds. That much was clear to Chell the moment she set foot into the school over a year ago. No one here understood where she had come from, and she wouldn't expect them to. Perhaps Wheatley or GLaDOS had spoken of her situation to others in their own ridiculous ways, but Chell herself had not.

She felt a strange affiliation with Caim, though. How similar were their backgrounds, she wondered. Not similar enough, since he knew how to fence, but there was something guarded about him that she could identify with. They were two completely different people and yet they were similar in ways that words couldn't describe. After all, this relationship didn't need words.

But she had come here to fence, as indicated by her foil and her written request. Techniques... she hadn't thought of any in particular. She just wanted to get better at this art of swordfighting. It was a way she could defend herself against the cruel people of this world, or at least one of the ways, because her Portal gun wouldn't always work.

So when she read the message, all she did was shake her head. No, she just wanted to practice in general. With Caim.

He raised his eyebrows as he eyed her. She didn't seem to have a specific technique in mind. Which left it very... vague. And slightly of some discomfort for him. Mostly because he didn't know where to begin. There were offensive moves, defensive, parries, blocks, rotations. A lot went into fencing, after all, and there was no simple way to begin. Perhaps hands on activity was really the best way to begin.

...Which meant. He needed to locate his foil.

Caim found himself looking around with some thought and his blue eyes stopped when he eyed his desk, perfectly neat and orderly with classwork he had been grading. And his foil atop it in perfect condition. It still didn't measure up to his original sword and he knew it wouldn't. No other sword would, but where that sword was... really remained to be seen. Perhaps Majima had taken it with him. But one day he would find it. One day.

He moved past Chell and eventually took it in hand. Then he swished it back and forth, two crisp horizontal slices. It was only an indication and with his free hand, he lifted it in favour of keeping himself balanced. Fortunately, his quarters were mostly barren, or clean was probably the word for it. He strafed carefully across the floor and he motioned to her indicatively with the tip of his foil. As if to imply that he was ready when she was. Whenever that was. After all, he had no place to be.

Chell waited patiently as Caim went to grab his foil. Maybe she should have thought about a specific technique to focus on, but none had truly crossed her mind. She wasn't truly interested in the sport of fencing, really. There were multiple techniques that were used in competitions, she was sure, or formal duels... but she wanted to know how to defend and protect herself with a sword. And hands-on training was probably the best way.

When Caim indicated he was ready, slicing the air, Chell slowly held out her own foil, watching the other intently. Of course she knew that this man was highly experienced in fencing - he was her teacher, in fact. She knew that he would most likely beat her in any of these matches, but that wouldn't hinder her determination. It would only make her fight harder.

Chell matched Caim in his strafing, showing that the match had now begun. Eyes locked onto him, she wasn't sure if she should wait for him to make a move, or if she should start. Well, this was a practice match. Maybe she should begin it. Her movements were slightly clumsy when she moved her blade forward in some attempt at an offensive maneuver.

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Dorm Log: School's in session

Caim - TD-07 & Fencing Class

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TD-07

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